Hetalia For Every Occasion
by Magicath099
Summary: Just a bunch of unrelated drabbles and fics that I've made in years past, where you-the reader-are included! Not my best works, but still stuff that I wrote and worked on. Anywho, I stink at summaries so go ahead and take a peek inside if you must! READER-INSERTS INSIDE
1. America-Angst

**A/N: So this is going to be a collection of mostly old Hetalia fics of all shapes and sizes that I created in the past two-three years. They might not be much for quality, but if I can find them all I think they make up in quantity. Anyway, this first one is a rather angsty America x Reader fic. I don't own Hetalia or the characters involved, and I didn't mean to write this to hate Russia or anything like that-it just kinda came out that way.**

* * *

He remembered her better than anyone else ever did, and ever would. She had found him, though she claimed it was the other way around, not long after her parents and little sister had died in a fire when she was only eleven. She had been so young, so sad then. But he had helped her get through it; he'd provided her with a family and a house and friends and everything else that girls needed.

And she had been happy. He took her to church every Sunday (I don't care if you don't, here you do), but he wouldn't stay even if she begged him. He'd believed himself to be too much for God to try and save. She told him otherwise. She was always right. But that was how she was, (f/n). She was smart, optimistic, sweet, courageous, and beautiful-even if she denied it every time someone tried to tell her.

She had been perfect: (h/c) locks that shined even if she liked her hair frizzy and in a ponytail, her face barely needed makeup, and she always had this twinkle in her (e/c) eyes; it always made him smile when he saw her.

All that, Russia had been able to take away from her. He tried talking to her, but it was like he wasn't even there anymore. It was like nothing was there. She was a black hole of terror; her once graceful (e/c) eyes in the way they searched over everything methodically were replaced by merciless, muddy, dull-colored irises. Her hair had been hacked by a knife, in some places longer than others, though she wouldn't let anyone touch it. She said it was a reminder of what she had been through, but America couldn't see why she would want to be reminded of those terrible days in Russia.

She had scars, too. Not the deep ones like Lithuania had, but scars that would be there forever, nonetheless. She said nobody could touch those either-she'd always had an odd thing for scars. They showed how tough she was. America couldn't stand seeing that beautiful young woman he had once known turn into this…this black hole of nothingness.

He hated it. He hated himself. But he couldn't bring himself to hate her.

The first day after she woke up, she didn't cry. She never cried anymore, whereas she'd cry before, albeit not openly. She didn't want people to see her as weak, and her tears were an embodiment of weakness. He supposed that was why she liked her scars, all over her back, arms, and legs. And the one on her hairline, she liked it the most.

He'd try talking to her again. That was all he could do now, try to make things better. Try to fix things. Maybe he'd get a reaction this time-any reaction would do, really.

"Yo, (f/n)?" She didn't look up, but she pulled her legs closer to her with her arms, leaning her chin into her knees. She wasn't shutting him out, but she probably wasn't listening. "Are you alright, dudette?"

No answer. She pulled on the strings of her hoodie, tightening it just a bit more. Her sweatpants couldn't have been comfortable, seeing how it was summer now. She'd been wearing them for over half a year, and they were graying and dirty and stained with blood-hers, no doubt. She wouldn't even move from her corner, and a smile was a rarity that was never cherished between the two of them anymore.

Her smiles had been contagious. Every single one of the countries had loved her. America could hardly see the resemblance they had once shared in their spontaneous attitudes, where they had each been cheerful of a sort. Russia had taken that away from her.

She had always been calculating, but manipulation was more of what her sister did-at least, that was what she told him. And he knew she would have no reason to lie to him; she had trusted him and loved him-like a friend, she would explain. She had been smarter than America at times, because he had no reason to be smart. He had thought that being smart would take away from fun, and she had proved him right by being more of a mother than anyone else ever would be to him.

She used to never be able to leave anything out in the cold, as she showed with her poor dog, Daizy (Fire: Yay! You get my doggie!:). Her life was ended with Russia, too. America thought that was what made her crack. She had loved that dog with all of her heart, and the hound had loved her master back with even more heart than he could've thought a dog could muster. (f/n) had had so much, gone in a flash. And that dog was practically all she had left.

Now that America looked back at everything she had lost, everything she had gone through, he noted that there was a long list of things that he'd never be able to understand. One was her grandma's front porch. After her grandpa died, she cried herself to sleep months afterward. He could hear her all night long, and it hurt him deeply. One day she had just told him that she'd miss the front porch swing most of all. He asked her why, and she just shook her head and refused to explain. That was the first time she had shut him out.

Every time there was any sort of family crisis, the world was automatically shut out. America had taken her to a psychiatrist, because that was what Canada had said he should do, and America knew that his brother only wanted the best for her as well. It turned out she had depression, and she seemed to welcome the fact; almost as if she had known that that was what it was.

"Dude, can you say something? Please?" America loved when she talked. Her voice sounded like those bells that every little kid gets at Christmas; the ones that look like they could've been sleigh bells, but they're really cheap and plastic. She wouldn't talk much-even before the tragedy-unless you got her on a good day. She'd remember things and share stories for hours until she'd realize that America's attention had darted elsewhere. How he wished he could have that time back; that he could pay attention to what she was saying instead of making her feel even more alone.

"You wouldn't understand," She said, barely above a whisper, her voice rough and raw at the unused. They were the first three words she had said since Russia. She had written almost every day, though she'd never let anyone read what she wrote. She had once had dreams of being a (career choice), but they had been nothing more than dreams, she said. Nothing more than childish dreams in a cruel and heart-breaking world.

"What wouldn't I understand? Why won't you say anything?!" He shut up right after the words were yelled from his lips. She smiled regretfully, looking up for the first time this year.

"You are upset. You are mad at me; though it's not that you hate me. You hate the depression. You hate my pessimistic attitude. You hate that I won't talk. Yet, you haven't kicked me out, forced me to move, or forced me to even look at you. Why is that? I wouldn't care one way or the other. I'd still keep spiraling down into my bottomless pit of nothingness and sadness and stupid phase of self-pitying stupor. I'd still be annoyed with myself, even if I try to argue that I can't help it."

"I-I could never hate you-"

"Why is that? So many other people hate me. Why are you incapable of creating that feeling towards me? I'm a sadistic, cold-hearted creature on the inside, Alfred Jones. Did you know that? When I was younger, my mom threatened to take me to a mental institution. I laughed at her while I cried. I scared her even more than I realized, and I was pretty sure she would actually take me there. I thought 'Good, now I can finally find out what's wrong with my head.'" She shook her head, trying to throw the memory away.

"She threatened me, said people who're like that need to be locked up. I was thinking about what I should bring. And then, it was a year later when I was helping her with the dishes. I had a knife in my hand and for the sickest moment I wondered what it would feel like if I just ended it, right there. It wasn't that I would actually do it-I wasn't stupid enough to throw away my life like that-but it was the fact that I had that moment of thought to try and kill myself." She shook her head. "So no, you don't understand. Your brain isn't wired the way mine is."

"You're a good person, (f/n). We all have our flaws. That was just your mom and you overreacting and it's only human to be like that. Ever since I took you in when you were eleven, I knew you'd be different from everyone else." She didn't change her facial expression, but he explained anyway. "I knew that you wouldn't be just any normal eleven-year old girl. And you weren't. You made me laugh so hard sometimes, and I'd smile at you and I took you in and did my best to protect you because I love you."

She wasn't convinced. Or maybe she was just mad at him, as a frown drew itself upon her face.

"Why weren't you there?" She whispered. America looked at her, rather confused.

"What?"

"Why weren't you there when Ivan hurt me? Why didn't you come when I needed you? I kept telling myself 'Alfie will come save you. He must know that you're in danger or something. He said he'd keep you safe, that he'd protect you.' So why…why did you leave me to die? Why was it Ludwig and Gilbert that came to my rescue instead? Didn't you know that he was going to kill me because I kept smart-mouthing him?" She smiled for the first time in a long time right then.

"I told him, 'You can take away my appearance, you can take away my dignity, you can take away my rights like the Russian you are, but my spirit won't be broken so easily.' A-and you should've seen his face. He had this purple aura all around him, and he kept chanting this weird thing and I'm pretty sure it was something in Russian. I wasn't letting him win; I would let him take whatever he wanted from me, but not without a fight. But you still wouldn't come to get me from that snowy, radioactive wasteland, would you? Maybe…maybe you did hate me. And maybe…maybe I just didn't want to see it."

"I could never hate you-"

"Shut UP!" She screamed, making him jump at the sound of her voice being so loud. "Leave me alone! Leave me to die again! I'm sure you can manage to let that happen!" America was ashamed of the tears that were soaking his cheeks.

"Please, (f/n)-"

"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Goddammit, will you just listen to me?! I'm sorry I didn't find out where you were until Germany and Prussia found you! I'm sorry I let that happen to you! I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you like I said I would! But can you just forgive me?!"

"SHUT _UP_!" She let her tears pour down her cheeks as well, letting her emotions show finally. "You don't know what I went through! Ask Toris, or ask Gilbert, and then maybe you could understand a bit. He would whip me, and then he'd hit me, and I'd escape to an unconscious dream world that would taunt me before he made me beg for food and water. Lithuania stopped by once, and he found me first. I begged for him to let me out, pleaded that he somehow find a way to help me get out. He gave me food and water, but Russia knocked him out and sent him away.

"Russia, he…" She shook her head. "Why do I bother? You'd never understand. You weren't there when I practically _begged_ for God to kill me and take away the pain." Wiping the tears from her face frustratedly, although it was more like she was backhanding herself, she sighed.

"I'm sorry. I needed to get that out, though." America nodded, feeling like she was finally coming out of her little black hole. He knelt down and held her close to him. She wiped away his tears, laughing-although it wasn't her usual laugh. It was…different. Unlike her. But it was a laugh that America was glad to hear come from her. He couldn't help himself as he leaned in and kissed her, barely a breath away. She had grown up so much, and she wasn't that little teenager America had once seen. She was going on (age) now, he reminded himself. But she backed away from him, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Alfred…I'm sorry-"

"N-no, I'm sorry. I-I probably shouldn't have tried. That must've been pretty weird for you."

"Just listen! I was going to say, 'I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure that's not what you do when someone's depressed.' But I guess if you're a country, then dating anyone of this era must be weird…"

"Hey!"

"Well, 246 years is a long time to be alive! I'm just saying!"

"Not cool bro."

"It's the truth."

"China's the old one!"

"You're all old to me, I'm only (y/a), doofus!" There she was again, the smile gracing her face once more. Maybe the depression was bad, maybe America would never understand what she had gone through, but he had her now. And letting her go would be a mistake he wouldn't be making.

* * *

**A/N: So...definitely not my best, but I'd like to see what you think about this, as my beautiful readers. Again, no hate to Russia (he's really one of my favorites, actually^^) and love and huggles to you all!**


	2. Germany-AngstRomance

**A/N Warning! Mild language use in the middle, just so there's no surprises. I don't particularly like using language in things like this, but I figured that it's a bit more modern or something like that. I dunno, maybe it's in the character? It might be relatable to some people or something? Anywho, I wrote this almost three years ago so it's another old one (not my best work, but I like it anyway. It has its charms, I suppose), and this one is for Germany if you hadn't read the chapter title. I don't own Hetalia, or any of the characters other than my two OCs, Alana and Megumi. Song belongs to Taylor Swift (I know, I know, just roll with it. Her music might be terrible, but it's a great prompt for cheesy, cliche writing)**

* * *

_I'm so glad you made time to see me.  
How's life? Tell me how's your family?  
I haven't seen them in a while.  
You've been good, busier than ever,  
We small talk, work and the weather,  
Your guard is up and I know why.  
Because the last time you saw me  
Is still burned in the back of your mind.  
You gave me roses and I left them there to die._

"What is he doing here?" You asked your friend, Megumi, honestly confused and curious. You pointed towards your ex, the country of Germany, who had a different girl hanging all over him. It seared your heart knowing that it wasn't you, and because of some stupid sense of pride and a mistake you had made. He had been so sweet to you, and he made sure you were taken care of, but you had just been so mad and you took it all out on him. You lost all contact with each other, and you had no idea what had happened to him. It was frustrating, because you hadn't meant all of the mean things you said and you wanted to apologize. Seeing him here just made your head spin, and seeing him here with another girl made you feel an ache in your chest.

"Is he going to be a problem? Because we can leave and go to Japan's house, he won't mind if you want to go." You shook your head, tearing your eyes from the couple as the girl kissed his cheek.

"No, it's fine; I know how much this means to you and America. Just...who's that girl hanging all over him?" Meg looked over there and frowned.

"From what I've heard, it's some girl named Alana. She's a promiscuous little-"

"Bitch? Slut? Skank? Whore?" She cringed, frowning at me.

"You know I don't like those words. I was going to say she was a promiscuous little pig, but yeah. You get the point." Meg pulled on your arm, leading you away from Germany as you bit your bottom lip and trudged through the crowd away from the purple-haired succubus. A scowl was on your face as your best friend led you to your other friends.

_So this is me swallowing my pride,  
Standing in front of you saying, "I'm sorry for that night,"  
And I go back to December all the time.  
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you.  
Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine.  
I'd go back to December, turn around and make it all right.  
I go back to December all the time_

"Hey, (f/n)! Did'ya see Germany's hot new girlfriend? She's been clinging to him like a lost kid the whole time they've been there! Oh by the way, isn't he your ex?" The oblivious America asked/yelled in his obnoxious voice. You looked at your feet as Meg turned you towards her and hugged you in a friendly embrace, as she had done when you were trying so hard-and failing-to get any contact with Germany.

"America, I'm sure that Japan needs some help getting used to western culture again; why don't you assist him?" She asked-harshly, you added. She rubbed your back to comfort you and console you. But it wouldn't get Germany away from that little skank any more than it would get you to stop hurting.

"We can always leave, sweetheart. It's not that big of a deal, you know. I don't want you to have to-"

"No." You stopped her mid-sentence. "I want to stay. I'm going to stay here and forget about Germany and his new little girlfriend." She held you out at arm's length as the music turned on and the room went dark as only colored lights filtered through the entirety of America's house. The bass started pounding from the speakers and the floors seemed to shake. Megumi grinned at you, a mischievous glint in her eye that always meant some scheme or another. She pulled you to the area that had become the dance floor.

"Here's the best place to start forgetting about them, then! Now you go find someone while I find Japan and...talk, I guess." She wrinkled her nose, obviously not wanting to just talk to Japan-as she had told you multiple times, but she just couldn't get through to his personal space with her shy atmosphere she adopted around him. You tended to think of her as a chameleon, when her attitude was involved: she was a completely different person with one group of people than she was with the next.

You wished you could be like her, because she could at least relax or get over a boy and move on in a decent amount of time without losing the sleep you had lost over Germany. Oh well, you were you and that was all you were ever going to be. Sure you had your demons, namely your angry outbursts that you had almost under control, but everyone else did, too. You just wanted to dance and forget about your past mistakes, so without any further doubt or hesitation, you grabbed the nearest boy-which just so happened to be Italy, Germany's closest friend-and started dancing to the beat of the bass.

_These days I haven't been sleeping,  
Staying up, playing back myself leavin'.  
When your birthday passed and I didn't call.  
And I think about summer, all the beautiful times,  
I watched you laughing from the passenger side.  
Realized that I loved you in the fall_

"Ve, (f/n)! How have-a you been? It's-a been so long-a since I've-a seen you! Doitsu was-a so sad when-a you left! He even-a had to have-a Mr. Prussia help-a him get over you." You tensed when you heard Germany's name, but at least you knew that there had been a time when he missed you as much as you missed him now.

"Wait, he went to Prussia's house?" Well, at least it explained why he was never home, and the house calls. But you still didn't have any answers as to why he wouldn't answer his cellphone for you. "Didn't he have his cellphone?" Italy shook his head.

"He left-a it at his-a house on accident, and-a Mr. Prussia wouldn't-a let him get it back because-a he said it-a would make-a him seem-a desperate. Ve, is-a there gonna be pasta here, (f/n)?"

_And then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept into my mind  
You gave me all your love and all I gave you was "Goodbye"_

You swallowed, a lump stuck in your throat like a fuzzy sock that was coated in glue. Germany wasn't avoiding you, it had all been a misunderstanding. He didn't know that you wanted to get back together, so he started dating that whore, Luna, because Prussia obviously told him it would make him feel better-it was something he'd do. (No one ever said Prussia was the best brother, after all.) You stopped dancing with Italy as Megumi walked towards you and grabbed at your elbow.

"We're going over there," She murmured, mostly to herself, but also partially to you as well. There was still that little glint in her eyes that made your stomach churn. You didn't want to go over there with Germany and his new girlfriend, yet. You hadn't worked out what you were going to say!

"Meg, cut the shit and let go of me!" You screeched, trying to yank your arm away from her. But you were suddenly standing in front of the two people you didn't want to see most. Germany was looking down at you as Luna slit her turquoise eyes at you. And Japan had made his way over towards you, pulling your friend from the mix like a magnet attracting metal. Over her shoulder she grinned at Alana.

"Why don't we go grab some punch, Lani? I'm pretty sure Luddy won't mind if I steal you for a bit, right?" Ludwig grunted permission, and the purple-haired floozy was dragged away forcefully.

_So this is me swallowing my pride  
Standing in front of you saying, "I'm sorry for that night."  
And I go back to December all the time.  
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you,  
Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine.  
I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind  
I go back to December all the time_

"So, how've things been vith you, (f/n)? Megumi tells me you're vell." Your ex told you, after a long awkward pause. You looked at the ground with a scowl on your face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." The terse, awkward atmosphere only heightened as Germany sighed, combing trenches through his blond hair with his fingers as his blue eyes softened a bit. "L-listen, Germany…I…I didn't mean…I don't…mmsree…" You muttered incoherently, making him lean in to hear you over the music.

"_Was?_" You shook your head, mouth a straight line as you felt your cheeks turn red with embarrassment and the onslaught of anger and frustration. "Vhat did you say?" He persisted.

"I said I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry for getting mad at you, and I'm sorry that I'm such a jerk that I ignored you, but then when I tried to call you, you never answered and Italy said that you were staying at Prussia's house, and this was all just a big misunderstanding, and _I'm sorry_, alright?!"

_I miss your tanned skin, your sweet smile,  
So good to me, so right  
And how you held me in your arms that September night –  
The first time you ever saw me cry_

He stood there, taking it all in with a look of shock on his usually stoic expression. He had never heard you say sorry, not to anyone you had gotten mad at, simply because your pride wouldn't allow for it. Your eyes pricked with tears, but you continued talking anyway, mentally cursing your shaky voice.

"I missed you, Germany. God, I missed you so much; I could've made things up with you before, if you had just stayed at your house instead of trying to get away from me and giving me the cold shoulder!"

"So, even after all that, you're still going to place some of the blame on me? That's not exactly a great apology, don't you think?" Germany asked, teasing you and it infuriated you to know it.

"Yeah, well you know I don't do this crap for anyone else, so just shut up and say that you accept my apology, you idiot, because I-" you caught yourself before you yelled the words right into his face.

_Maybe this is wishful thinking,  
Probably mindless dreaming,  
But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right_

"You vhat?" Your face deadpanned, and you looked to the side-anywhere but his flawless face that you knew you didn't deserve. But God, you'd do _anything_ to be considered worthy of it.

"I still love you, okay? You've been the only thing that I could think about for the past few months, and it drives me insane, but I can't even sleep without missing you and wanting you there with me. I hate it, alright, but I can't live without you."

_I'd go back in time and change it but I can't.  
So if the chain is on your door I understand_

Germany was silent as he listened to you. He couldn't say anything, not after what you had just said. He couldn't believe that you had gone through it with as much pain as he had, and the fact that you had just told him what you did…he felt his heart flutter, and warmth spread throughout his cheeks in the tell-tale sign that he was blushing.

"So, I know I messed up big time, but can you forgive me? _Please_, Germany?"

_But this is me swallowing my pride  
Standing in front of you saying, "I'm sorry for that night."  
And I go back to December...  
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you,  
Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine.  
I'd go back to December, turn around and make it all right.  
I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind_

You had closed your eyes sometime after you started crying during your confession, and you were too scared to open them to see his face. Would he forgive you? Or would he toss you aside to go back to his new girlfriend? Your answer came when you felt his lips crash against yours in a sweetly hastened kiss, never graceful but perfectly Germany. Your heart soared as you roped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, drawing him nearer. He broke the kiss, touching your arm, your hair, your cheek, whatever he could hold onto. (**A/N-take this however you want, it was not meant pervertedly**) Your lips were barely a breath away, and with each word he said they brushed against the other's pair.

"You don't know how much I vanted to hear you say that. _Ich liebe dich auch,_ (f/n). I love you so much,"

_I go back to December all the time.  
All the time_

* * *

**A/N: Cliche, cheesy, and way too teenage-drama-love-triangle-y for me. Ugh, I blame hormones for this being the output of my effort. Anywho, love and huggles for reading!**


	3. America-Fluff

**A/N: I think this was meant to be a cute drabble or something, but I dunno. It stinks in my opinion, but some people like this stuff. It's not my cup of tea, but here you go anyways. I still ****unfortunately**** don't own Hetalia or any related characters.**

* * *

A soft smile played at your pink lips as you read the Valentine's Day card again.

_Hot dogs are red, hamburgers are brown, girl you da finest chick in town~_

You honestly didn't even have to read it again, but you could remember bursting out laughing in the middle of class when America set the card on your desk in his slightly sloppy cursive handwriting. Your teacher hadn't been too mad, because he was an amazing teacher, and since you did fairly well in that class, he didn't bother you.

Alfred Jones, the personification of America, had been your boyfriend ever since Highschool, and getting transferred to the same college as you had been a breeze for him. Currently you were working on getting through your (favorite class) course, but he had been there for you the whole time. When you had looked up to spot his grinning face, glasses askew and eyes squinched due to his super-sized smile, you could only shake your head.

_He's such an idiot, _

you mused, grinning back at him.

_But at least he's my idiot!_

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed, you guys! Love and huggles to my readers!**


	4. Various-FriendshipAngst

**A/N: So this is an overall fic-no romance in here, and it's mostly just angst. I don't own Hetalia or any involved characters~**

* * *

"Hey America!" You cheered, waking up your roommate as you grinned. "Guess what day it is~!" America groaned, desperately wishing you weren't such an early riser.

"Five more minutes," he complained, rolling over so that you weren't staring directly into his face. "Please, (f/n)." You felt your features scrunch up in annoyance, shoving the personification of America to wake him up more.

"Not until you tell me what day it is!" You demanded, waiting for him to complain once more under his breath before sitting up in his superman t-shirt. He rubbed his eyes before grabbing his glasses and placing them on his nose.

"Couldn't you have let me sleep? It's Saturday, happy?" He yawned, grumpy at being woken up before noon on a weekend. Your smile twitched at his tone, miffed that he hadn't remembered.

"Isn't there anything else about today? Maybe something more important?" He scratched his head before brightening up and jumping off of his mattress and pulling some jeans on over his Spider-Man boxers.

"Oh right, I completely forgot!" Your diminishing smile turned into a full-out grin again as America continued. "I'm going to Canada's to have a few drinks after we catch a movie! That's okay, right?" Your simpering turned into something more along the lines of putting up a mask so that America wouldn't be upset by your unhappiness.

"Y-yeah...yeah, that's fine..." He excitedly kissed your cheek, running out the door without so much as a good morning or a quick acknowledgment of the day and it's utmost importance to you. You felt your nose start to run and your eyes started to water, but you wiped it away and decided that your best friend England would definitely know what important day it was!

So you called him. It went something like this:

"Hi Iggy! Do you know what crucial day it is today?"

"It's not a World Conference Meeting, if that's what you're getting at." You sighed dejectedly, feeling like a kicked puppy.

"No, that's not what I was getting at at all."

"Well then, it's Saturday. Why?"

"J-just needed to know. Thanks."

"(F/N), what's-"

"-Bye." You cut him off and ended the call quickly before he could hear you sniffling. Iggy hadn't remembered either, it seemed. But those weren't all of your friends! You were at least on good terms with most of the countries, and you would go through every contact in your phone before you would allow yourself to succumb to the tears and feeling of rejection you got.

Each call only got worse. Japan told you that he would call you later if he figured it out-he never did. Canada was at the movies with America. France simply told you that if it wasn't a Valentine's Day that you wanted to celebrate with him, he didn't care what day it was. China told you that it was a Saturday, and then threatened to beat you with a wok if you didn't tell him what day it was, aru. Russia ignored your questions and only asked if you wanted to "become one with Mother Russia, da?" which you kindly refused. Greece didn't pick up the phone, instead letting his answering machine tell you that he was probably either sleeping or too lazy to move if he didn't answer. Korea told you that Saturday was invented by Koreans (though you really doubted him). Belarus-why was her name even in your contacts?! Delete, delete, delete!

Each country responded with the same basic thing: "It's Saturday, why?" Which you never answered.

You couldn't believe they hadn't remembered. None of your friends had known what day it was, or how special it was to you. You looked at your phone, finding the time slip by to the last minute of the day. America was probably drunk in a bar, and you would be alone for probably the rest of the night. With a hoarse voice, you whispered three words to yourself, the three words you had waited to hear all day.

"Happy birthday, (f/n)."

* * *

**A/N: D'aww, no one remembered your birthday you poor thing. That must've been two years ago when I wrote this, because I guess no one remembered mine either or something? I dunno, this really stinks, but I need to get this off of my deviantart account. Anywho, love and huggles to my dearest readers!**


	5. Japan-Fluff

**A/N-This...I can't process what was going through my mind while I wrote this three years ago. **

It was the day before Valentine's Day, and you were in middle school. Tomorrow was just going to be another normal day for you, because you never got anything on Valentine's Day anyway. You had been single since third grade, when you "got your heart broken" by an idiot who didn't really care about you. Looking back on it, you felt pretty stupid yourself-I mean really, you were nine!

You were a shy kid, too, so it didn't really improve your chances for getting any guys to like you when you barely spoke unless you got a good chance to be a smart-aleck. Except, you didn't really pay attention to anything that people told you, and you didn't really listen to the conversations around you. It was only when someone talked directly to you that you would ever actually say anything back-and that was only sometimes, when you knew how to respond.

You walked down the main stairs to head to the cafeteria for lunch, entering one of the twin doors that led into the grand room that had been painted by some of the more talented artists into a mural. You took your seat at your normal table with Italy, Germany, Japan, and Romano. You looked at each of them with a shy smile and sat down because you never ate the cafeteria food from school.

Suddenly, an announcer walked up in the middle of the room with a microphone, pulling your attention to it. As you turned your head to see your principal, you caught Japan staring at you and you both blushed profusely.

You see, you might've had this little crush on Japan. Okay, it was enormous! He was shy, like you, so he didn't usually talk to you much anymore except to say greetings and small talk, but you used to be best friends before he distanced himself from you for some unknown reason in third grade.

"May I have your attention, students." Your principal called through the microphone, dragging multiple people from conversations of their own. "Tomorrow, there will be carnations being sold in the cafeteria as a fundraiser. They will be a dollar each, and you can but as many as you want." An excited murmur spread across the cafeteria, anxious for tomorrow to come so that the girls would get their flowers from whoever loved them. You looked at Japan, wondering if he would buy you one.

You shook your head, clearing your mind of those thoughts. Japan wouldn't get you a carnation, he was too shy! And besides, he didn't show any signs of liking you, especially after he pushed himself farther away from you in third grade. Why would he get you, out of all the girls in the school, a carnation?

"Ve, bella are-a you alright?" Italy asked you, in his singsong voice. You nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking..." You talked with your usual friends for ten minutes before they let you outside to stay until dismissal. You skipped over to your normal tree, sitting up against it and waiting for the schoolbell to chime.

"I-is this seat taken?" A familiar voice asked, not wanting to sound rude. You smiled up at Japan, moving your hand to block the sun out of your eyes. You shook your head, sliding over to give him some personal space. You talked with each other until it was time to go. You were quite discouraged when you tried to grab his hand and he jerked it away from your grasp. Secretly sighing, you looked up at Japan, who refused to look at you all the way to the buses, where you boarded yours and left the cruel prison known as school.

-:-Le Timeskip-:-  
"Another long day of school is finally over..." You mused to yourself, talking aloud so you wouldn't feel so alone as you walked through the halls, headed back down to lunch once more. Your stomach growled, but you refused to eat any of those chemical byproducts they unfreeze and dub food in your cafeteria. Only America and England ever really ate the food there.

"Ciao, (f/n)! How-a are you?" Italy chirped, smiling absentmindedly. You grinned back, but looked behind him and Germany. Japan wasn't with them. But they had their last period class together?

"Hi, Italy, Germany. Where's Japan?" Italy opened his mouth, but it was quickly shut by Germany's death glare.

"He said he had to get somezhing from his locker first. He should be back in a little vhile." You nodded.

"So, did either of you find a girl to propose to on Valentine's Day?" It was a running joke between you four, everyone else made sure to have someone to give something to on Valentine's Day and everyone was always looking for someone to ask out. And the cheesy thing was that they all believed was that they would always be together and they would never break up. Italy smiled at you.

"Ve, I found a pretty ragazza and-a I promised I'd-a get her a carnation, but I-a forgot that I don't-a have any money!" Germany rolled his eyes at Italy before turning back to you as you spoke again.

"What about you, Germany? Got a special girl that I don't know about?" Germany's face flushed dark red as he scoffed at you.

"N-n-nein!" You shrugged.

"It's fine if you don't wanna tell me who she is, Germany-kun, but you don't have to lie." You said cheekily, a pale pink dusted across your face while you talked of people you loved.

"Vell, vhat about you? Don't you like somevone?" Your blush only intensified to a dark red splatter on your cheeks and ears.

"O-oh, w-well...I-I-I-"

"Of-a course she-a does, Doitsu! Haven't you-a seen how she-a looks at-a Ja-"

"Italy!" You exclaimed, cutting him off and frowning at him. You pouted, muttering to yourself about lousy friends as your face only turned deeper reds.

You ate your food quickly, searching for any signs of Japan. He wasn't there, though, which made you wonder where exactly the raven-haired student was. You walked out of the cafeteria, intent on heading outside but instead you bumped into someone absent-mindedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" You murmured, adjusting your bookbag as you looked at who you had run into. It was Japan! He looked at his feet with his cocoa orbs, debating something but not responding to you. "Japan?" You asked to gently gain his attention. He lifted his gaze, face flushed as he swiftly kissed your cheek and pushed something into your hand with a whisper of "Happy Varentine's Day, (f/n)-chan." before he pushed the doors to the cafeteria open and almost ran inside. In a daze, you stood there in the hallway before glancing down at what he shoved into your hands.

There, resting ever so gingerly, was a beautiful white carnation with a note attached to the stem. You peeled it off, unfolding the letter before scanning the ornate handwriting that you recognized as distinctly Japan's.

_Dear (f/n),_  
_I'm not exactry sure how to cerebrate sis horiday, but France tord me sat I should kiss you and give you a carnation. Er, sis is embarrassing for me to say, so I wrote it down instead, but (f/n)...wourd you be my Varentine?_

Your expression of shock turned to a cheeky grin as you fangirled inside (1). You spun around, walking towards the doors and opening them. You had a note to answer, and you could hardly wait to tell him yes.

* * *

**(1) ...I actually put that in my writing. Like, ****_actually _****put it in my writing. Where did I go wrong with myself?**


End file.
